


Three Steps

by flyinggirl139



Series: Sam x Reader [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Chaste Kisses, Clean Fluff, Cute, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, M/M, Team Free Will, You get to drive the Impala, awesome music, obviously, we're talking about Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-24
Updated: 2015-02-24
Packaged: 2018-03-14 21:53:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3426902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flyinggirl139/pseuds/flyinggirl139
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You and your best friend Sam Winchester have the day off, so you decide to leave Dean and Cas at home and hit the road together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Three Steps

"Here, I made this playlist for our trip," you say, taking one hand off the Impala's steering wheel to turn up the volume. "Gimme Three Steps" by Lynyrd Skynyrd swells to an audible level.

Sam groans in the seat beside you, his hazel eyes glittering with secret laughter. "Your taste in music is just as archaic as Dean's," he complains.

"Hush," you say. "Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cake hole."

"Did you just?!" Sam says indignantly, shutting up at the sight of the grin on your face.

The Impala handles beautifully, you notice, drumming your fingers on the wheel and singing softly along. "Won't you gimme three steps, gimme three steps mister …" Dean takes good care of this car.

"Nice of Dean to let us borrow the car for the day," you say, feeling out the pedals with your bare feet. Your flip-flops are on the floor by Sam's feet, next to the styrofoam cooler you and Sam packed this morning. It's full of beer, water and a few of Castiel's ham-and-coleslaw sandwiches.

"It might have been more for him than for me," Sam says. "He always wants to believe that my life isn't 100% hunting, all the time. And I think he feels like a third wheel when we’re around."

"Oh come on, he has Castiel, doesn't he?" Almost as an afterthought, you add, "Also, you and I are just friends."

"Yeah, but Cas isn't there all the time. And don't tell me you can't see how our friendship might seem a bit … exclusive."

"I don't know what you're talking about," you say innocently, trees whipping by on either side of the car, sunlight making dappled patterns on the road stretching out ahead.

"Are you serious? For one thing, you've started wearing my _clothes_ ," Sam points out, indicating the soft, faded jeans sitting low on your hips, the cuffs rolled three times to accommodate the extra length.

"I like these jeans," you say. "They make my butt look cute."

"I like them too, and I kind of want them back," he says.

"Not a chance," you say, smirking. "If I'm gonna be stuck doing everyone's laundry -"

"- You volunteered for that job -"

"- Then I'm going to enjoy the perks, which include, but are not limited to, loose change, rolling up in warm sheets when they come out of the dryer, and harvesting a few select items for my own use," you grin at him. "Such as my favorite hunter’s favorite jeans."

"I'm gonna start stealing _your_ clothes," he grumbles.

"No problem," you say, as the song changes to "Spirit in the Sky". "I have a couple of dresses you’d look great in."

"... Also, you and I have way more in common than Dean and I do," he says, skating over your comment. "Remember the other day at dinner when I made that terrible joke about the potato famine* and you and I laughed our asses off and Cas and Dean just sat there staring at the both of us? You realize we do that all the time, right? I'd wanna kick us out too."

"Oh, come on, it's not that bad," you say.

"Dude, you lie on my chest while we watch the same Marvel movies over and over again, and we have so many inside jokes that Castiel has given up on us entirely," Sam says. "For two people who aren't dating, we're _annoying_."

"Your chest is comfy," you pout. _And sexy_ , you think, but you push the thought aside.

Sam shakes his head. "Also, where are we going?"

You grin over at him, singing along to the song instead of answering him. "Take me up to the spirit in the sky, it's where I'm gonna go when I die…"

"Don't talk about dying," Sam says, grabbing your iPod and pressing the "next" button. The opening notes of "You Shook Me All Night Long" come through the speakers as he says, "And answer the question. Where are you taking me?"

"Well," you say, tapping your hands on the wheel to the song, "I figured since this week's case is actually within two or so hours of my hometown -"

"It is?" Sam interrupts, surprised.

"- I wanted to take you to a spot where I spent a lot of time when I was a kid."

"Where are you from?" he asks, perplexed.

You raise your eyebrows at him, grinning in an _I'm not telling you anything_ sort of way. "Bet you wish you’d asked about that before."

"Damn it, (y/n)," Sam whines, flaring his nostrils in frustration. "If I didn't know Castiel I'd say you were the most irritatingly cryptic person I've ever met."

"You love it," you tease, feeling the Impala thrum under you as you press harder on the gas, watching the country roll by through the windshield.

* * *

 

Gravel crunches under the Impala's tires as you pull up and stop the car. Sam looks around, blinking. "Here?"

"No," you say sarcastically, yanking the parking brake into place. "Yes, here. Hop out."

Sam steps out of the car, looking around. The two of you are standing in the shade of a huge, old willow tree that stretches out over a peaceful lake, little ripples in the surface of the water sparkling in the sun. The gravel road you drove in on expands into a little gravel area where you've parked the Impala, and that in turn becomes a sandy embankment that slopes gracefully down into the water. Long grass is waving lightly in the breeze all around, secluding the whole area from view.

"It's beautiful," Sam says.

"I know," you say, laughing. You pull out sunscreen and bug spray. "You’re going to want these."

"So you used to come here all the time?" Sam says, spraying his tanned forearms with Off while you spread sunscreen onto your face.

"Yeah, in high school. I'm pretty sure my friends and I were the only ones who knew about this spot. I had my first beer here, my first and last cigarette …" You look over at Sam, winking. "... lost my virginity here …"

"Oh?" he says, raising an eyebrow. "So what are we doing here then?"

In lieu of reply, you unbuckle your belt, letting Sam's jeans fall around your ankles. Sam stares as you fold them up and put them on the hood of the car, your lacy underwear sticking out from under your little white tank top.

"We're going to go swimming, and then we're going to have a picnic," you say, pointing at the lake. "Come."

You wade out into the water, your eyes on your best friend as he strips off his black t-shirt and jeans. You enjoy the view for a moment despite yourself, looking over his tanned skin, his muscular back and shoulders, and the tattoo on his chest. His chocolate-colored hair gleams coppery in the sunlight as your eyes trace the edges of the delicious "V" marks disappearing into his boxers.

He catches you looking. "What?" he says, self-consciously, looking down at his body.

"Nothing," you say, grinning, smacking the surface of the water so it splashes. "Get in here, loser."

"Oh my God, it's cold," he complains, wading in your direction.

"Shush, of course it is," you say, reaching out to him. "Come here."

As Sam wades forward you step back, teasing him. He pauses, then steps forward again. You step back again, giggling, holding your hands up as though to fend him off. The water creeps higher on your body, soaking into your tank top; the wet part sticks transparently to your skin.

Sam pauses for a long moment, poised, looking at you, before lunging forward in the water. You react quickly, throwing yourself into a backstroke, kicking away from him, laughing. You are fully soaked now and your wet hair clings to your face and neck. Your bra, lacy and black, is logged with cold lake water and its outline is clearly visible through your tank.

As you stand there laughing Sam launches himself forward in the water again, too quickly for you to escape this time. He takes you down in a slow-motion, watery tackle. You grab onto his strong shoulders to prevent him from dunking you under the surface.

"Oh my God, haha, Sam, cut it out," you say, laughing. His arms still around you, he pulls you upright, and suddenly you are staring deeply into your best friend's hazel eyes.

The two of you are so close. You can see every one of his long eyelashes, feel the heat of his skin through the thin fabric of your tank top.

A brief moment passes as you stare at each other.

"Put me down, nerd," you say finally, breaking eye contact. As Sam lets go of you and steps back a little, you dip your hands under the surface to pull up a scoop of cold lake water.

"You didn't even get all the way wet," you say, dumping the water over his head.

"Oh, come on," he says, shaking his head like a puppy, squeezing his eyes shut against the trickles of water running down his face.

You are already halfway out of the lake. "I drove all morning," you call over your shoulder at him. "More time for swimming later. Food time now."

You lay down a couple of towels and haul the cooler out of the Impala. As Sam digs out a sandwich you lay down on your towel and open a beer can with a satisfying crack.

"Did you bring a dry set of clothes?" Sam asks, his mouth full of ham and coleslaw.

You shake your head.

"So how … you know Dean will kill us both if we get in his car soaking wet, right?"

"First of all," you say, tipping your head back, eyes closed, enjoying the sun on your face, "that's what a towel is for. Second of all, that's what the sun is for."

"You probably won't get all the way dry by the time we need to head back," Sam says.

"Maybe I'll just drive naked then," you say. You look over at Sam and grin at the shocked look on his face.

"... Speaking of Dean," you say, "what do you think he and Cas are up to right now?"

Sam swallows a large bite of his sandwich. "That's not a question," he says. "They're totally having sex."

"You think?" you say, shielding your eyes from the sun with one of your arms.

"Oh, I know. Think about it, wouldn't you want to seize the opportunity? Both of us gone all day? They’re probably eating each other up like a couple of ice cream sundaes."

You strip off your wet tank top and throw it at him. "TMI, dude."

Sam's eyes flit briefly along the length of your now mostly-naked body. He starts to blush, the tips of his ears turning pink even under his tan.

"What?"

"It's just … I've never seen … this much of you before," he says, valiantly maintaining eye contact.

You turn to face him, propping your head up on your hand. "Really? Dude, we live together. I sleep in my underwear."

"Yeah, but … I don't know, I never really …"

"Oh my God, Sam," you say. "You're actually uncomfortable right now."

Sam swallows and nods his head.

"But, why? It's not like I'm the first girl you've ever seen in her underwear …" A sudden thought occurs to you. "I'm not, am I?"

"No, no, of course not," Sam says. "It's just … it _has_ been a … while. And, uh …"

"What?"

"You're, uh … very attractive," he mumbles.

You look at Sam for a long moment, a worried expression in his hazel eyes.

"I didn't know you thought so," you say quietly.

He swallows again. "Yeah. I'm sorry. I never told you because I didn't want to make it … weird … between us."

"Sam …"

"I'm sorry," he says again, looking away. "I should never have said anything."

"No, it's okay," you say, making him look up. "I'm glad you told me."

You finish your beer and set it aside, then take the last of Sam's sandwich out of his hands and put it on top of the cooler. Smiling at him, you scoot over onto his towel, getting close to his warm body.

"What are you doing?" he asks.

You look up at him, strands of his coppery hair falling across his confused face. You reach up and tuck the hair out of the way.

"Sam Winchester, may I kiss you?" you ask him.

In response, he wraps one of his powerful arms around you, pulling you closer to press his mouth against yours. Your head spins as he tangles one hand in your wet hair, holding you close, deepening the kiss, your lungs full of the sweet smell of Sam. His stubble rubs against your skin as his soft lips caress yours until finally, after what seems like an eon, you break apart.

"Well," you giggle after a moment. "I think this changes things a bit."

Gently he kisses your nose, then your forehead, his warm hand on your waist.

"I think you’re right," he says softly.

"What are we going to tell Dean and Cas?" you whisper.

"Really?" he says, laughing a little. "That's what you're thinking about right now?"

You snuggle up to him. "I guess we can cross that bridge when we get to it."

"I agree," he murmurs into your hair. "For now, I think we have a lot of catching up to do."

**Author's Note:**

> *Sam: "Hey, how many potatoes does it take to kill an Irish person?"  
> You: "I don't know, a lot?"  
> Sam: "None."  
> You & Sam: *proceed to laugh forever*  
> Cas & Dean: "..."


End file.
